Chapter 2

Karma stood up so fast her chair had scraped against the floor. "Nurse," she called, stepping into the hallway. "I need you in here with the patient. Don't leave him alone. Not for any reason, not even if this building was collapsing."

The nurse nodded and went inside.

Karma walked straight to her office, locked the door, and fell apart.

Now she sat in the silence of her office, crying, blowing mucus out of her nose into a tissue and breathing through her mouth because her nose was too stuffed to breathe in air. Her chest ached and her throat burned.

She never thought she would see her father, more or less in that manner. But then again, a leopard never changes its spots. 

Standing up, she wiped her face with a hand, while she reached for her phone with the other hand. She pulled her phone from her coat pocket, and clicked the power button and scrolled through her contacts. 

She found the name she was looking for, then she pressed ‘dial’.

It rang three times, before she heard her name from the other end.

"Karma? Is that you?"

Detective Noah Adler. They had gone through university together. He joined the police force the same year she had started medical school. They kept in touch, having coffee dates every few months, also the occasional drunk texting when one of them had a bad day.

"Hey, Noah." She cleared her throat, trying to sound normal. "I need a favor."

"Sure, anything. You okay? You sound—"

"I'm fine. I just—" She took a breath. "I have been thinking about my dad lately. About forgiving him, and maybe moving on. I was wondering if you could tell me how he is doing. If he is—I don't know. Changed."

A pause. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah. I just want to know."

"Alright." Noah sighed. "Unfortunately, he is still the same, to be honest. Hits the strip clubs every Wednesday without fail. Drinks heavy when he's off duty. But he shows up sober for work, does his job. Still one of the top guys in the department, he even got another commendation last month."

Karma's jaw clenched. "Which strip club?"

"The Velvet Room. That place near the harbor. Why?"

"Just curious, maybe I will check up on him. Thanks, Noah."

"Karma, wait—"

She ended the call.

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

“It seems the universe agrees with me.”

She pressed the intercom button on her desk. "Sandra, clear my schedule for the rest of the day. I have a personal emergency and you can go home. "

"Of course, Doctor. Is everything alright?"

"Fine. Just something I need to handle."

She grabbed her bag and walked out.

Her apartment was across the city—a penthouse overlooking the river. She bought it with her first paycheck from the hospital. Proof that she had made it without him. Without his name. Without anything he could ever do for her.

She stripped off her scrubs in the bedroom, took a quick shower, then stood in front of her closet. Pushed past the blazers and pencil skirts until she found what she needed. A black dress. Very tight and short. The kind she never wore to work, never worn anywhere respectable.

She pulled it on. Applied makeup—heavy eyeliner, dark red lipstick, wore her Christian Louboutin heels and finally to look the part, she let her hair down from its usual bun. Looking in the mirror, she barely recognized herself.

“Good.” She muttered with a cold stare. Then she wore her leather coat and walked out. 

She drove by an old hotel first and booked a room, before driving to the club.

The Velvet Room didn't open until 8 PM. She arrived at 7:45, walked straight to the manager—a thin man with a goatee and too much cheap cologne.

"I need a VIP booth," she said. "One in the back. Very private, but still gives me access where I can see the main floor."

He looked her up and down, obviously thinking she couldn't afford what she had requested for. "That will be five hundred for the booth, plus a drink minimum."

She pulled out her wallet, handed him a stack of bills. "Keep the change." He widened his eyes and opened his mouth in shock. 

“Yes ma'am. Please follow me.” He said as he showed her the VIP booth. 

The booth was perfect. Tucked into a corner, half hidden by velvet curtains, but with a clear view of the stage and the bar. She ordered a vodka tonic she had no intention of drinking and waited.

An hour later, the door opened.

Marcus Kuntz walked in like he owned the place. Talking and laughing so loud. Two other officers trailing behind him. They took a table near the front, and ordered a bottle of whiskey. He leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide, surveying the room like a king surveying his kingdom.

Karma's nails bit into her palms.

She watched him drink. Watched him shout at the dancers. Watched his eyes track one girl in particular—petite, blonde, young. Too young. Probably not even twenty five.

Karma signaled the manager over. "That girl. The blonde. I want her to bring me drinks."

"Mia? She's working the floor tonight—"

"I will pay extra."

He nodded and walked away.

Five minutes later, the girl appeared at her booth. Up close, she looked even younger and drained with tired eyes and bruises on her wrists poorly covered with makeup.

"You wanted something?" Mia set down a fresh drink.

"Sit." Karma gestured to the seat across from her.

The girl hesitated, then sat.

Karma leaned forward. "How long have you been working here?"

"Two years. Why?"

"You like it here?"

Mia laughed—bitter, with pain visible in her eyes. "Does anyone like this?"

"How much would it take for you to quit? Leave this city. Start over somewhere else."

The girl's expression shifted. She became so guarded. "What are you, some kind of rescue mission?"

"No." Karma pulled out her phone, opened her banking app. "I am offering you ten thousand euros for one night of work. It's a simple job. You do exactly what I tell you, you get the money, you disappear. New life. New city. Whatever you want to do with the money."

Mia stared at her. "What's the job?"

"You see that man over there?" Karma nodded toward her father. "The loud one in uniform."

"Marcus? Yeah, he is a regular."

"He has been watching you all night."

"He watches me every week. Hasn't worked up the guts to do anything about it yet."

"Tonight, he will." Karma met her eyes. "You are going to seduce him. Get him to a hotel I already booked. Room 447 at the Hotel Belvedere. I will text you the details. You do exactly what I tell you—blindfold him, use his handcuffs for his hands, he always has one with him. I also left extra handcuffs in the drawer beside the bed for his legs, and leave the rest to me. Then you leave when I tell you to leave."

"And that's it?"

“Account details please?” Karma requested. 

Mia called out her account details for Karma.

"That's it." Karma transferred five thousand euros. Showed her the screen. "Half now. Half when it's done."

Mia stared at the number. Her hand shook as she pulled out her own phone, checked her account. Her eyes went wide.

"What are you going to do to him?"

"That is not your concern."

"I'm not—I'm not helping you kill someone—"

"You are not killing anyone. You are just setting up a date to help me save more people." Karma spoke in a cold tone. "Do we have a deal or not?"

Mia looked at her phone, then at Marcus, and back at Karma.

"Deal."

She stood up to leave.

"Mia."

The girl froze, then turned back.

Karma smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "If you double cross me, I will find you."

Mia nodded once slowly.

Mia's face went pale. She walked away without another word.